


When I Think About You (I Touch Myself)

by melancholymango



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Dirty Talk, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Half-Galra Keith (Voltron), Knotting, Lance is asleep but otherwise he'd be hella down, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Pining, Public Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sybian, fleshlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholymango/pseuds/melancholymango
Summary: “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re not alone.”“Come on, Lance, you can’t even say that this time.” Keith scoffs, pulling away from him and stomping toward the tree line. His discomfort has only grown, and it’s starting to feel actually painful, like he could crumple onto his knees and lay there in agony. “Name one other person on Earth that’s gone through this. You get within five feet of me and I become this mindless, slobbering, stupid fucking animal.”“... I can name one.”--Or, the one where Keith goes through a very /alien/ second puberty, completely clueless to what's going on.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 680





	When I Think About You (I Touch Myself)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DMBatty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMBatty/gifts), [Nanfoodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanfoodle/gifts).



> Hello all! It feels good to be back!! Just wanted to quickly touch base with some story details in case they're not clear, if you don't want spoilers and none of the tags gave you any pause then feel free to read ahead. 
> 
> 1\. Keith doesn't know about his Galra heritage. He has no idea he's anything other than human.
> 
> 2\. The dubcon/somno scene: Keith and Lance are cuddling and with his nonexistent self-control, Keith ruts against Lance's body to get himself off. He feels guilty about it afterward, but his feelings are definitely mutual and even if Lance had known he wouldn't have minded, so take what u will from that.

Keith reaches up to readjust the rearview mirror, checking to make sure his hair looks alright. He ends up fluffing his bangs for the hundredth time before sinking back against his seat, his other hand idly tapping at the wheel. He’s parked outside of the highschool, hasn’t even bothered to turn his car off because he knows he won’t be waiting here long, and the deep thud of the bass in his speakers is calming to him.

It’s been a little over a week since he’s seen Lance. They don’t spend quite as much time together anymore, now that Keith’s graduated and Lance is still finishing up his senior year. It’s not as simple as skipping classes or spending lunches together, they have to go out of their way to make time for each other. Of course they do, they’ve always been inseparable and a little bit of distance won’t be the thing to come between them, but it just makes Keith all the more nervous when they do get a moment alone together.

His long-time crush has gone from something he prides himself in his ability to repress to something that rules his every waking moment, it’s a little bit embarrassing actually. It’s just, Lance has really… come into himself this past year. He’s more popular than ever, he’s on every sports team known to man, and he’s had no shortage of graphic stories to tell about all the girls he’s been sleeping with.

And fuck, this might be a strange thing to say, but the way he smells.

Keith has no idea what exactly changed, he hasn’t had the heart to ask Lance if he’s using a new cologne or something, but whenever they’re together it’s all Keith can do these days to keep his head about him and keep from doing something impulsive and stupid. Lance smells… fuck, he smells like nothing Keith has ever known before, like a scent created and bottled just to drive Keith mad.

It doesn’t really make sense, hence why he hasn’t said anything about it to anyone, but damn if it doesn’t haunt him. He’s not exactly proud to admit that the sweater Lance forgot as his apartment last month is still there, tucked in behind the headframe of his bed for easy access.

Late nights with his face buried into soft fabric and his hand wrapped tight around his cock flash behind Keith’s eyelids and he sinks further down in his seat, shame burning the tips of his ears.

And of course, it’s that very moment that the passenger’s side door swings open. 

Keith bolts upright, turning to watch as Lance slings his backpack into the backseat. He’s shouting to someone in the parking lot, probably one of his track and field buddies.

“Yeah! That was sick, man, I don’t know how you’ll beat it next week!” Lance laughs, that beautiful melodic sound that Keith loves so much, and a sound bubbles up in Keith’s throat that starts out as a pleased sigh and then ricochets around his throat into a purr of sorts. Needless to say, Keith swallows it down hard, digging his nails into the meat of his thigh as silent reprimand.

He needs to control himself. 

See, Keith has always been different. He’s not sure if it’s some lingering side effect of the traumatic upbringing he had or if there’s something physically wrong with him, but the topic has come up again and again in his life. He was bullied for it relentlessly in middle school. The way loud noises bothered his sensitive hearing to the point of him having outbursts, the way the whole school had to ban strong scented products because they could cause Keith to become nauseous and sick, or the way Keith was protective over his things to the point of biting other children who stole pencils from his desk. 

Now, Lance met him during that time, so he’s seen the worst of what Keith has to offer.

But it’s been years now since Keith had this much of a problem controlling and containing those odd quirks of his, so while he knows it wouldn’t be a dealbreaker or anything, he doesn’t want Lance to notice the way he’s becoming sensitive to things again. It’s a question he doesn’t have an answer to.

These past few weeks though… Keith doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch!” Lance shouts in farewell, before swinging unceremoniously into the car and slamming the door shut behind him. The scent of Lance’s deodorant hits Keith like a punch to the gut, a cloud of it engulfing the entire car. Keith frantically rolls his window down, head spinning as he struggles to concentrate on anything other than the musky  _ male _ scent. 

Lance turns to him with a grin, reaching over to punch him in the arm. “Hey, look at you, you weren’t late picking me up for once. Did you grab me anything on your way here?”

“A little expectant, aren’t you?” Keith grumbles playfully, before grabbing the iced coffee out of the cupholder and holding it out to him. Lance snatches it eagerly, bringing the straw between his lips and sucking hard, and Keith watches out of the corner of his eye. “How was practice?”

“Beat my 100m dash record from last year. 10.7 seconds.” Lance offers casually, clearly trying to downplay it. Keith grins wildly, jaw dropping in disbelief. Lance lights up in the same instant, laughing proudly, a rosy pink blush spreading across his cheeks under the attention.

“Lance, that’s amazing! I swear, at this rate you’re coming for Usain Bolt, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Yeah right.” Lance rolls his eyes, reaching down to lean his seat back. He kicks his feet up on the dash with a sense of familiarity that Keith would kill anyone else for, as it is he finds it only endearing. He leans back in his own seat, staring avidly over at Lance, hoping the lovesickness isn’t obvious on his face. “But yeah, it was pretty cool. I’ve been training really hard so I guess it’s starting to pay off. You know, aside from my sexy muscles or whatever.” 

“I guess.” Keith snickers, rolling his eyes as he shifts the car into reverse and pulls out of the parking spot. Lance leans across the center console to lean his head on Keith’s shoulder, taking a long and obnoxiously loud sip from his drink, no doubt to annoy him on purpose. Keith shrugs him off.

“So, what are we doing tonight?” Lance asks without missing a beat, clearly unphased. Keith glances over at him and quirks an eyebrow, but otherwise says nothing. He figures Lance has plans already, he usually does, and Keith will go along with whatever he wants. “You don’t work tomorrow, do you? I wanna crash at your place and it’s always so boring when you’re not there in the morning.”

“You know, it’s considered rude to invite yourself over.” Keith comments, turning out onto the road and making an honorable effort not to let his smile show. It’s a losing battle though, especially when Lance gives that petty little sigh of annoyance and leans forward in his seat, far enough that Keith can’t help but see his glare in the corner of his vision. He chuckles. “I’m off, Lance.”

“Good, ‘cause I was gonna make you stay up all night with me either way.” Lance announces proudly, and Keith has no doubt in his mind that Lance is telling the truth. He watches as Lance reaches over to the dash and snatches up the paper bag settled there. He peers inside for all of a second before eagerly snatching the donut out and biting into it like a man starved. 

Then, through a mouthful of pastry with crumbs covering his shirt, he turns to Keith with a toothy shit-eating grin. “Is this donut for me too?”

“It wasn’t.” Keith huffs, playfully annoyed. “Asshole.”

“You are what you eat.” Lance counters, making sure Keith’s looking his way before he makes a show of licking lewdly through the donut hole, the implications beyond obvious. Keith groans, coming to a stop at a set of lights and immediately landing a smack to Lance’s gut. All he gets is wicked laughter in response, bubbly and bright, and Keith can’t even pretend to be annoyed after that.

“You’re gross.” Keith accuses.

“You love it, don’t lie.” Lance says, licking the frosting from his fingers one by one, pulling his lips from each one with an audible pop. And Keith sits there, stewing in a mixture of his growing arousal and shame, the two emotions warring inside of him. It’s not his fault that Lance is sex personified, everything he does is suggestive or downright explicit in nature, so can anyone really blame Keith for the nature of his thoughts lately?

Whatever. It’s dark in the car, even after Lance plugs his phone into the aux and the screen comes alight with rainbow text, it’s not bright enough to reveal Keith’s current… dilemma. 

He’s holding out hope that it’ll go down on his own before they get back to the apartment.

It’s not the sort of thing he wants to explain right now.

And it’s not all bad anyway, if Keith’s being perfectly honest the risk of awkwardness is worth it. 

It’s nice having Lance over, makes his apartment feel more lively, like a home rather than an empty set of rooms that Keith pays a handsome lump of money for each and every month. Bickering with each other as they make dinner, dancing around the kitchen to avoid tripping over one another… it’s one of Keith’s favorite things. And it’s only slightly dampened by the raging fucking arousal burning hot beneath his collar, ever-present, especially when Lance bends over to retrieve soiled silverware from the floor or grabs ahold of Keith’s waist to “dance” with him.

It’s nice after dinner too, when Lance helps himself to Keith’s closet and comes back out wearing a baggy band tee and well-worn pajama pants, somehow managing to make his borrowed clothes look like a fashion statement. He settles next to Keith on the couch with the same confidence he always does, unaware of the way Keith has been warring with his instincts off and on all night.

He cuddles up next to Keith even, resting his head on Keith’s shoulder and pulling the heavy comforter over both of their laps so they can share. It’s a unique test of Keith’s willpower not to react, not to move his hand over just a few inches to have it in Lance’s lap instead of his own.

The movie is stupid.

But then again, most of the movies Lance picks are. Keith doesn’t mind so much, the amusement factor of making fun of Lance relentlessly is almost better than what any movie could ever offer him. 

It’s after the fifth dramatically overdone and predictable death of the movie that Keith turns with a snide comment on the tip of his tongue, and finds a jarring lack of blue eyes blinking back at him. It brings a smile to his face seeing how peaceful Lance looks, all cuddled up next to him, completely at asleep. Still, Keith has to ruin it, because Lance had promised him they’d have all night together.

“Lance? You still awake over there?”

“Mmph.” Lance offers, eloquent as ever, and accompanies it by holding up a middle finger in Keith’s general direction. Keith catches his hand and brings it up to his mouth, nipping at his fingertip, and Lance screeches like a wounded cat. He’s all limbs then, flailing his feet and hands at Keith.

“What happened to staying awake all night, huh?” Keith teases, effortlessly managing to pin him in place against the couch. Lance grumbles, eyes finally cracking open, an uneasy little squint.

“Shush.” Lance says, pinching Keith’s arm. “Just… shut-up.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Keith is determined to bug him now, seeing how Lance is trying in vain to cling to his unconsciousness. He was the one that wanted to stay up all night in the first place, damn if Keith is gonna let him off the hook this easy. “Come on, wake up, the movie’s only half over and you were the one that requested it. Wake up, wake up, wake u-”

“Ughh, shut-up.” Lance seems so tired, Keith isn’t expecting it at all when he retaliates so suddenly, using his full strength to buck Keith off and send him toppling off the couch. Keith laughs as he hits the ground, sprawled between the cushions and the coffee table. And he can’t even pick himself up afterward, because Lance rolls after him, collapsing on top of him as dead weight. 

Keith grunts at the impact, but doesn’t protest as Lance relaxes against him, using his chest as a pillow. In fact, Keith finds a startling lack of vocabulary on the tip of his tongue, unable to say a single word as Lance cuddles into him. He even gives Keith a halfhearted pat on his left pec, like one might to calm a dog. “Go to sleep. You gotta wake up early in the morning to make me breakfast and be a good host.”

“Fine.” Keith scoffs eventually, rolling his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling, glad Lance isn’t watching him right now because his blush must be obvious. Lance is just… so close. And sure, they’ve been close before, plenty of times, even in this exact position… but whatever’s up with Keith’s body as of late seems to think it’s something new entirely. He feels alight with nervous energy, entire body strung taut like a livewire, he can hardly breathe. 

He tries to come up with an excuse, any excuse, to get himself out of the situation. Not because he wants to particularly, more because he’s afraid of how his body might betray him if he doesn’t. “You want the light off? You gotta let me get up.”

“I wouldn’t move if you paid me too, my thighs are so fucking sore after practice today.” Lance mumbles, in that whiny little voice that plays Keith’s heart like a puppet. Keith swallows hard beneath him, going completely still, resigned to his fate. He’s not going to make Lance move now, he’d feel too bad about it. 

Or at least he would have, if Lance hadn’t picked his head up at that moment and opened his eyes, all slow and beautiful as he blinks himself awake. And then they’re staring at each other, and Keith is holding his breath the entire time, and Lance has the utter fucking audacity to look at him and say to his face: “You should massage ‘em for me.”

Keith splutters stupidly, trying to shove him off with little success, and ends up just collapsing back against the floor hard enough to leave the back of his head bruised. He groans.

“Fuck off, Lance.” 

And with that, Lance lowers himself back down against Keith’s chest and relaxes, clearly intending to fall asleep just like that. As much as Keith probably should be protesting it, instead he finds himself pulling the blanket down from the couch and wrapping it around the both of them, mindful to make sure Lance is as comfortable as possible.

And for a little while, it’s actually kind of nice.

The closeness warms Keith, enough that he finds his chest vibrating with that same strange purr that’s been haunting him so often as of late. But by now Lance is solidly and fully asleep, snoring gently against Keith’s chest, so he figures he’ll let himself have this and purr it out. What can he say, he’s happy. Contented. 

Only Lance has never been still a moment in his life, least of all when he’s asleep, and it isn’t long before he starts up his usual kicking and writhing. Keith does his best to hold him still, but it’s a lost cause, and soon he’s squirming around and muttering under his breath in his sleep. 

It’s cute, adorable even, and any other time Keith would cherish the moment so he could tease him about all the things he says come morning… but right now? 

Right now it’s all Keith can do to keep from shouting in frustration, as Lance’s warm body pressed so close to his sets him aflame in an entirely different way from embarrassment. It starts off with just feeling a little warm under the collar, the close quarters and heavy blanket making the temperature between their bodies sweltering hot. It isn’t long after that though that Lance grinds down against him in just the wrong way, unintentionally of course, and Keith gasps in a breath so sudden and shocked that it almost stings.

Because fuck, that felt _ good. _

Keith refuses to be someone so depraved that he’ll sit here and use his best friend’s body for his own pleasure, but at this point there’s no clawing his way out from beneath Lance without waking him, and with the rapid way his cock is stiffening between his legs… Lance will definitely notice.

It’s better to just stay exactly where he is and summon all the restraint he has to suffer through it.

How bad can it really be? He’s not a teenager anymore, he can control himself, he has a fair amount of experience under his belt and it’s been a long time since a little bit of dry humping was enough to make him cream his pants. He’s not a slave to his instincts, even if it _ is _ Lance himself touching him.

… Probably.

_ Maybe? _

He starts out strong as he struggles to keep his composure. His teeth are sinking painfully into his bottom lip and his hands are curled into tight fists that leave crescent moon-shaped indents in his palms, but the slight sting of it is just enough to distract him from the ever-present weight of Lance’s body shifting around on top of his. It’s not a very realistic long-term approach, though.

When Lance curls inward and buries his face into Keith’s neck, breathing deeply and mouthing against the sensitive stretch of his throat, something inside of Keith crumples beneath the weight and his composure gives way like a falling bridge.

He’s still biting his lip, but now it’s with nerves, as he carefully rolls his hips upward and grinds the bulge in his pants against Lance’s hip. It sends a pathetic little shiver down his spine, has him clawing at the floor instead of his own palms, immediately rocking his hips up and chasing more friction.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Keith mutters under his breath, so quiet that it’s barely audible even to his own ears. He’s panicking like he’s never panicked before, guilt nipping at his heels no matter how he tries to stay ahead of it and enjoy the moment, bask in the feeling of Lance’s lithe body rolling against his.

He feels dirty and ashamed, in the same way he feels elated and blind with pleasure.

Because despite what he might think about himself, apparently he isn’t above creaming his pants just like this. He’s certain he could come right now, the scent of Lance in the air nearly as dizzying as the friction against his cock. He rocks his hips steadily now, further ashamed when the loose waistband of his sleep pants slides down his hips, leaving his hard cock exposed where he drags it across Lance’s hip, only one layer of clothing separating them from skin-on-skin now.

He’s a terrible friend, he’s a fucking awful person, he should stop this now before it gets any further-

“Keith.” Lance whispers in his sleep, disjointed and quiet, but unmistakable all the same.

From that moment on, all bets are off. Keith’s mind is embarrassingly and blissfully blank as he gives in to the nearly unbearable urges clawing away at him. He bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, then he’s forced to taste it the whole time he ruts against Lance’s hip. And when his shirt slides up and Keith finds his cockhead sliding across those stupidly-defined abs that he’s admired countless times before… he still doesn’t stop. He’s not sure he could at this point.

It’s euphoric, it’s everything he’s wanted for so long, it’s heady and overwhelming and-

And he’s gonna  _ come _ , just like this, sprawled out across the floor and rolling his hips against his very best friend in the whole world like he’s a fucking pillow to hump.

It’s too much, the cedarwood and saltwater scent of Lance clinging to the air all around him so strongly he can hardly breathe. He’s lost to it, single-minded as he ruts against Lance and saturates in the feeling of smooth skin against his aching, swollen cock. He’s leaking pre-cum already, leaving a slick trail across Lance’s abdomen each time he thrusts against him.

Lance is quiet and limp on top of him, but every now and then he gives a breathy little sigh of something that could be Keith’s name again, and each time it grabs Keith by the throat. 

He’s getting close now, his cock throbbing so hard it borders on becoming painful, and before Keith can stop himself he’s reaching down to wrap a hand around it. This is somehow even more damning than everything else he’s done, actively jerking himself off on Lance’s sleeping body. It’s awful, it’s the grossest thing he’s ever done, and it’s also the fastest he’s ever gonna come.

“Yes, Yes, oh my fucking god, yes!” Keith hisses under his breath, fighting the strong urge to shout as he squeezes the base of his cock hard and takes some of the mounting pressure off. He comes almost immediately then, cock pulsing in his grip and shooting his cum in streaks across Lance’s stomach. Keith writhes beneath him as Lance sleeps through it, a dopey little grin on his face as he drools on Keith’s shirt. 

And as Keith comes down afterward, wiping the mess off on a corner of the blanket and hoping for the best as he lowers Lance’s shirt back down… there’s a shift in Keith’s feelings that he can’t deny anymore. Whatever he’d just done has only stoked the flames of this strange change his body’s been going through lately, he feels more sensitive than he ever has to Lance’s every breath and sigh. 

The guilt is monumental as he pulls Lance’s shirt back down to cover him fully, but at the same time there’s a smug air of satisfaction surrounding him. He feels proud, in a sick sort-of way, like he just staked a claim on Lance in a way that no one else ever has (despite knowing for a fact that Lance has wiped his fair share of cum from his skin). 

The moment they’re both covered and dressed again, that purring starts up again, erupting from Keith’s chest in its intensity.

Fuck. Keith really is a different breed, isn’t he? What’s _ wrong  _ with him?

\--

In the week following, Keith tries to make a point to distance himself from Lance. It’s not easy by any stretch of the word and he hates every second of it, but he’s not sure he can trust himself around his friend right now. The more distance he gives himself, the clearer it becomes that what he did was completely unforgivable, and he regrets it heavily. More than once, he debates if he should come out and tell Lance, tell him the whole and entire truth about it.

Because it was very clear the morning after, that he had absolutely no idea. He sat there at Keith’s kitchen island happily eating the meal Keith made him, chatting idly about school and girls and everything under the sun. And all the while, Keith had remembered how beautiful he’d looked covered in thick ropes of cum. 

Keith has thrown himself into work to distract himself, working long hours in the shop and pushing his body to the point of exhaustion so he doesn’t have a second to spare to think about the things that are haunting him. For the most part, it seems to work well, and even sheds some light on whatever is going on with Keith lately. Now that he’s apart from Lance, he doesn’t find himself fighting with any of the same sensitives to his senses. 

No one else’s scent draws him in like a moth to a flame, no one else can render him speechless at the sound of their laugh, and he certainly doesn’t fucking purr for anyone else.

Anyway, it’s going well, Keith is starting to feel almost normal again.

And then it all goes to shit.

“Keith, someone’s here to see you.” Someone taps the car that Keith is underneath to alert him to their presence and Keith sighs heavily, figuring it must be one of his customers here for an update on their vehicle. It happens from time to time, people come in before he calls them, expecting to find their car finished ahead of schedule. It’s never a particularly friendly interaction when Keith explains to them that no, he actually isn’t finished the work yet.

“Sure, I’ll be out in just a sec.” Keith says, determined to at least finish the patches he’s welding onto this mini van before he has to pull himself out from beneath it. He gets another thirty seconds or so of work done and he’s getting pretty close to finishing… when he feels a pair of hands settle on his knees. He kicks his legs out immediately, blindly, and his boots connect with the legs of another person standing beside the vehicle he’s half underneath. 

Keith furrows his brows in confusion, wondering how this customer managed to get past the waiting room and invite themselves into the shop. They’re not allowed in here, it’s too dangerous, but it probably isn’t the first time someone’s completely ignored the rule.

Keith sighs, ready to push his creeper out and tell off the unruly customer, but freezes when those hands return to his knees and slide upward. He blanks completely as two hands, fingers spread wide, slide up the insides of his thighs.

It takes him a full ten seconds to compose himself enough to try and kick them away again.

“Uh, hello? Who’s there?”

“Heya handsome, think you can spare a second to take a look at my pipes?” It’s spoken quiet enough that no one else in the shop would be able to overhear, but Keith hears and clings to every word. It’s so sensual, dripping in implication, that it’s clear that whoever is saying it must mean it as a joke. And despite the unfamiliar tone, Keith certainly recognizes the voice.

“That’s more of a line for a plumber, Lance.” Keith grumbles, frustrated with the way his heart seems to leap in his chest, absolutely thrilled at the prospect of seeing Lance again despite Keith’s sound logic to stay away. Well, it can’t be helped, Lance sought him out this time and Keith is too good of a friend to try and turn him away. “Unless you’re having problems with your exhaust pipe? But that hardly sounds sexy.”

“Whatever.” Lance scoffs, clearly perturbed by the lackluster reaction. Keith laughs to himself as he pushes the creeper out from beneath the van, surprised to find himself staring up the line of Lance’s body the moment he’s out, those long legs framing either side of his head. Fuck. He has to take a minute to stop and admire the view.

Lance, admittedly, doesn’t seem to be doing the same. He glares down at Keith, very plainly unimpressed with whatever he’s seeing. “God, you’re gross, you’ve got grease in your eyebrow.”

“Fuck off.” Keith grabs one of his legs, silently marveling at how soft and hairless it is, and then attempts to pull him down to his level. Lance just kicks his grip off with a laugh, stepping out of his reach, and Keith finally pulls himself up into a sitting position. Now, he takes a minute to observe Lance, realizing how strange it is for him to show up here.

Lance has never come into his work before, he had no desire to after Keith told him about how gruff and unforgiving all of his older male coworkers here were. All men in their forties and fifties whose only passions in life are mechanics and milfs, Keith is pretty good at managing to deceive them into thinking he fits in, but Lance stands out like a sore thumb. Especially today. 

“What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have school?”

“I’m skipping, figured I’d stop and bring you lunch because I’m a nice friend like that.”

“What do you want?” Keith huffs, grabbing his water bottle and tipping it back to take a hearty swig, unbothered by the droplets that fall and soak the front of the white tank top he’s wearing. It’s a hot day out, hotter still inside of the garage and beneath a car, but at least Keith had the decency to pair his short sleeves with a pair of jeans. Meanwhile Lance is wearing shorts so short they could be classified as underwear. 

Not that Keith is staring or anything, because he isn’t. Not now that he’s turned over a new leaf of respectfulness, particularly toward Lance and his boundaries.

“Do I have to want something every time I’m nice to you? Jesus.” 

“What’s with the clothes?”

“What do you mean?”

“The lack of them?” Keith offers, earning himself a playful kick. Lance holds out a hand to him after though, so Keith takes it and helps himself to his feet. Once they’re both standing, Keith steps in close and knocks his shoulder against Lance’s, lowering his voice quiet enough that he’s sure no one else will hear. He’s noticed now that there are a few people looking their way, so he starts leading the way to the lunch room for some privacy, mumbling as he goes. “Pretty sure everyone in here wants to fuck or hatecrime you, idiot, couldn’t you have worn something that didn’t leave your  _ entire _ ass on display?”

It’s not that Keith is trying to shame him, hardly, he’s never once criticized Lance’s fashion choices and he isn’t about to now. He’s just looking out for him, here in particular, knowing the type of people he works with. He wouldn’t want Lance to end up hurt, physically or emotionally, and that’s why he allows himself to wrap an arm around Lance’s waist and lead the way to the safety of the break room. Not for any other reason, certainly not because he’s mesmerized by the way his hand fits around the side of Lance’s waist beneath that crop top, so huge compared to the gentle curves of Lance’s body. Fuck.

“Which category do you fall under?”

“Huh?” Keith asks, thoroughly distracted at this point, barely remembering to hold open the door to the lunch room so Lance can walk through. Lance turns back to him though, an expectant little smirk on his face, and suddenly Keith’s last words come back to haunt him before Lance can even clarify.

“Well, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you don’t want to hate crime me, so are you one of the ones trying to fuck me? Hm?” Lance grins something devilish, his entire face lighting up with smugness, and Keith doesn’t even have it in him to fight him on it. He just turns away and slinks off to a table in the back corner of the room, confident Lance will follow once he’s laughed himself out.

Goddamnit. 

“Cocky bastard.” Keith grumbles as Lance sits down across from him, all smiles and giggles, very plainly pleased with himself. He helps himself to the food he’d brought for Keith too, eating the better half of it, and it’s nearly as infuriating as it is endearing. God, Keith has it bad.

And when all’s said and done and Lance has to leave to let Keith get back to work, he pulls Keith in for a hug that’s so tight it almost kickstarts the rumble in Keith’s chest. He holds Keith like something to be cherished, and the seconds tick by without him letting go, and Keith can’t help but feel it like the loss of a limb when Lance finally peels himself away and offers up one of those big, goofy smiles Keith knows so damn well.

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah? I’ve hardly seen you at all this past week. I miss you, shithead.”

“I’ll message you when I’m off work, we’ll make plans.” Keith says immediately, all too willing to throw away his promise to distance himself now, with Lance directly in front of him. How can he say no to this? What man could possibly be strong enough to turn him away?

And after Lance leaves and Keith is long overdue to go back to work, he finds himself slipping into the bathroom instead. He drops his pants around his ankles and all but collapses against the wall of the stall, bringing the front of his shirt up and burying his face into it. The scent of Lance is still clinging to it in traces and Keith inhales it like a man starved.

He shoves a hand into his pants before he can convince himself to think better of it, getting a hand around his cock and pumping it to hardness in just a few quick strokes. The more he thinks of Lance and loses himself in the distant smell of him, the easier it is to work himself up, to rush toward a frustratingly quick end that does absolutely nothing to satisfy him.

He comes in his pants without thinking about how he still has to wear them for the rest of the day, squeezing his cock through it and desperately gnawing at his bottom lip, throwing his head back against the door and whining through it like a bitch in heat. It’s pathetic, the strung-out and desperate way he tugs at his cock through it, head swimming with thoughts of Lance.

He’s always harbored a crush on his best friend, but this is something else entirely, this has to be bordering on obsession and he has no idea what changed to spark this. Something’s not right.

\--

After that, Keith gives up on keeping his distance from Lance. It was a pipe dream anyway, no matter how bad he felt, in the back of his mind he’d known all along that sooner or later he’d give in and come crawling back. So things go back to normal… mostly. They spend time together and hang out a few times a week, the only difference is now each and every time their hangout sessions are cut abruptly short when Keith inevitably falls victim to his own body again.

Lance will do or say something that will hit Keith just right, send heat shooting southward, and almost immediately it becomes too much for him. What used to be a dull burn of desire is now the searing flame of a forest fire. Being hard around Lance isn’t an uncomfortable ache, it’s an all-consuming need that possesses his mind. Usually, Keith is lucky to make it back to the privacy of his car, let alone his apartment. Not touching himself just isn’t an option anymore, it becomes painful, and his body all but acts on his own to alleviate that burning need.

So, uh, normal might be a bit of a stretch.

Keith has googled his symptoms relentlessly to no avail and it’s almost to the point that he’s going to go to a doctor about it, but the sheer embarrassment of having to explain it is keeping him from it.

Instead, he tries every other possible solution first.

He turns to hook-ups, but none of them satisfy the urge any better than his own hand, and by the time he leaves their place he’s usually hard all over again from thinking about how much better it would have been if he’d slept with Lance instead. He spends an ungodly amount of time on home remedies, none of which do literally anything to help him. And in a moment of weakness, he might even dump half of his paycheck on sex toys.

They don’t help anymore than his hand or a hook-up might, but at least it saves him the embarrassment of finding someone on a dating app, and now when he finds himself still feeling antsy after getting off… he can just do it again. And again. And again.

And, fuck, he’s pretty sure guys aren’t supposed to be able to come this many times back-to-back.

He used to have a refractory period of some type, even if it did seem shorter than most guys, but now it’s just nonexistent. He can get off and be hard again within seconds, and every time he spends time with Lance, it seems like the limited satisfaction he gets from giving himself an orgasm gets less and less. It’s not the same, it’s not what his body is calling out for, and Keith knows that.

He might not understand literally anything else about what’s happening to him, but it’s very fucking obvious that the solution is fucking Lance, and nothing else is gonna work as a substitute until then.

Well, not as a _ good  _ substitute anyway, but he’ll make do with what he’s got if he has to.

He’s not sure how long he’s been at it tonight, he lost track of time a good three orgasms ago, but he does know it’s been long enough for every muscle in his body to fucking burn with exertion. He’s covered in sweat, hair practically soaked at this point where it clings to the back of his neck. He’s tired and frustrated, his satisfaction a taunting blip on the horizon as he wrings useless orgasm after orgasm from his poor exhausted body.

It’s a living hell, even as his entire frame shakes with pleasure, cock jumping where it’s pressed between the slick silicone folds of the toy he’s been fucking for the past few hours.

Now, he also has a machine buzzing away beneath him, obnoxiously loud where it shakes and vibrates like a goddamn washing machine. He’s not at all proud of the generous amount of money he dropped on the sybian, but it got to the point that the fleshlight alone wasn’t enough to even begin to scratch the itch beneath his skin. Now he’s reaching a point that even the both of them at once aren't doing much of anything for him, but he’s in denial about that.

He doesn’t know what else to do.

One of these nights he’s going to stumble into the walk-in clinic with his eyes blown wide with lust, an obvious bulge in his pants, and a vibrator no doubt buzzing away in his fucking ass. And even then, there’s no telling that they’ll even be able to help him. He hasn’t found anything like what he’s going through on the internet and he’s starting to wonder if it’s anywhere near normal.

It’s useless, as Keith leans forward and starts to fuck the toy in earnest, thrusting through the mess of lube and cum already inside it and moaning at the soft wetness that greets him. The base of his cock aches so badly that Keith is starting to wonder if he’s bruised it somehow, though that doesn’t really make sense considering how it feels better when he grips it tight and puts pressure on it. 

The sybian beneath him is a shaking, trembling machine with a cock attached long enough to hit Keith exactly where he needs it. He feels incredibly full, fuller than he’s ever been with a partner, and somehow it still feels like it’s only beginning to give him what he needs. It’s bad, even as his jaw drops and he cries out through the double sensations, he finds his fingers dragging through the sheets and clawing at them.

If he’d been paying a little more attention, he might have noticed the way his nails were leaving the sheets sliced fully wherever they’d been, in clean strips like a wild animal had been grabbing at them. As it is, he can barely think outside of his desperate pursuit for pleasure.

He’s starting to get close again, pleasure building higher and higher in that same taunting pace as the last few, but it’s the closest thing to relief he’s allowing himself right now so he still chases after it ruthlessly. He grinds down against the sybian between his legs, rocking back and forth on top of it, gasping and hitching his hips each time it rubs up against his prostate just right.

Meanwhile, he fucks the sleeve up and down his cock, panting like a goddamn animal as he grows close to releasing inside of it yet again.

And then, then-

His phone begins to chime with a familiar ringtone on his night stand. 

In a pre-orgasm induced haze, Keith doesn’t even think twice before snatching it up and taking the call, eager to hear Lance’s voice at a time like this. He hopes the sybian isn’t actually as loud as he feels like it is, but he doesn’t have the heart to turn it off. It’s all he can do to stop himself from moaning into the mic as soon as he starts the call.

“Hey.” Lance greets loudly, while Keith is still trying to swallow down his own noises and catch his breath. He’s an idiot, he shouldn’t have taken this call, but damn it if the sound of Lance’s voice doesn’t offer him relief like a cooling salve on his heated flesh. It’s so satisfying, he feels the tension bleed out of him all at once, a dopey grin stretching across his face.

“Lance.” He breathes, immediately regretting it when he recognizes the sheer amount of adoration showing through in the one-word response. He coughs loudly, correcting himself in the most normal tone he’s capable of. He still doesn’t sound completely normal, but hey, he’ll take what he can get right about now. “Hey, what’s up?”

“So… I did a thing.” Lance trails off with a little nervous chuckle, and it’s the cutest most innocent noise Keith can think of… and yet it still makes his dick leak pathetically into the toy it’s currently encased in. He swallows hard, shakily evening out his breathing again.

“What’d you do this time, huh?” Keith mutters quietly, unable to hide the fondness in his tone.

“I’m gonna text you a picture, alright? I just wanted to hear your reaction in live time.” The grin is practically audible in Lance’s tone and that’s never a good sign. Keith sighs heavily, like this entire conversation pains him heavily. He has no doubt in his mind that it’s about to, it’s never a good sign when there’s this much lead-up to Lance telling him something, he can only imagine what image he’s about to be texted. He just hopes the damage control won’t be too bad.

“Alright.” Keith takes the phone back from his ear, switching to Lance’s messages and waiting for the picture to come through. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not a bare chest pic, familiar brown skin and dusky pink nipples staring back at him. He blinks a few times, squinting in disbelief. Sure enough, on either nipple, there’s a shiny metal barbell staring back at him.

Keith goes painstakingly silent, not even drawing a breath.

“Well? Come on, say something, this is so anticlimactic.” Lance whines, very plainly annoyed with the lack of reaction. Keith can hear him shifting around his bed impatiently. And Keith really should say something, he means to say something, but the visual paired with the toy still buzzing inside of him is suddenly too much. He feels close again, pressure mounting and building, cock jumping in the sheath it’s buried into. Keith digs his nails into his bare thigh. “...  _ Keith _ ?”

Keith opens his mouth to say something and then immediately thinks better of it, jaw snapping shut again with an audible knock as his teeth hit. And then he’s gritting them together, desperately trying to swallow down any noises that might escape as his cock pulses hard, twitching as it starts spilling into the toy and adding to the tackiness already inside. Keith trembles and rocks his way through it, thoroughly fighting the urge to scream, choking down every noise while Lance questions him on the other end of the phone.

He slams his free hand down against the mattress in a moment of weakness, a dull thud that he prays Lance can’t hear, and he lets a whimper slip as his orgasm tears through him and leaves him shaking in the overly-sensitive aftermath.

“They, uh, they look good.” Keith offers finally, wiping his cum off on the sheets, reaching down to flick off the sybian before it starts pushing him toward another orgasm. For the first time in hours, he feels something close to satisfied, and he doesn’t want to push his luck.

“Right?” Lance replies without missing a beat, clearly eager to discuss his new piercings. “This girl I fucked around with a few months ago had hers done and she kept going on and on about how sensitive it made them, so I’ve been tossing around the idea for a while. God, you should have seen her when I sucked on ‘em, she sounded like she was gonna come just from that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have gone together.” Keith says, quickly changing the subject, because the thought of Lance having sex with anyone right now is probably enough to set him off all over again and he’s trying to avoid having that happen.

“I know, but I wanted to surprise you.” Lance offers shyly, and Keith’s heart does somersaults in his chest in answer, pounding heavily. “Now you’re not the only one with piercings, huh? I’m coming for your brand. I’ll be all tatted up before you know it.”

“Did you go to my usual guy? Jordin?”

“Yeah.” Lance answers quickly, then after a short pause… “He’s kinda hot.”

“He is.” Keith agrees easily with a hearty laugh, picking himself up off the sybian and collapsing onto the bed. He buries his face in the pillows, sighing, no longer hyper aware of every sound he makes. 

He figures that’s the end of the topic, but when Lance speaks again he sounds concentrated and nervous, clearly putting a lot of thought into how he phrases the question he’s asking.

“So, uh, I figured I should ask. Have you and him ever…”

“Yeah.” Keith interrupts him, already knowing exactly where this conversation is going. Being openly gay his entire life, Keith had never been shy about it, he’d never had any reason to be withdrawn about his interests or his hook-ups. Lance had struggled a lot coming to terms with his bisexuality and for a while during their teens, he came to Keith with questions just like this all the time, looking for input and insight into being with other men. It makes Keith feel oddly sentimental, or maybe that’s just the sheer bliss of finally not being hard. “A few times.”

“Seriously? Well, now it would be weird if I went after him, you suck.” Lance mumbles awkwardly, but it’s clear that he’s not done yet, that he has more to say. Keith waits on it, doesn’t dare to interrupt him before he’s finished, too curious about what Lance possibly wants to know so badly that he’s gone so uncharacteristically shy. “Have you ever… yanno, in the chair? The tattoo chair?”

“No, you idiot, do you have any idea how many health code rules that would be breaking?”

“Probably at least one.” Lance sighs, sounding forlorn about it, like maybe Keith has just brutally crushed one of his fantasies. Keith rolls his eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted as he lets himself relax into the pillow beneath his head. But then, Lance is unexpectedly starting up again, asking something else. Keith clings to his every word, a stupid smile on his face. “So, hopefully this isn’t offensive, but when you two fuck around, is he-”

“We’re both switches, Lance.” Keith might be jumping to conclusions here, but he’s pretty sure that’s the direction this is headed in. It’s been a while since Lance has shown so much interest in Keith’s sex life, after going through his questioning phase he’d sort-of taken the hint that Keith wasn’t typically that open about these things and given him his distance. And Keith was happy for it, still is, but there’s something inexplicably adorable about hearing Lance’s nervous voice again.

“You’ve fucked him?” Lance sounds surprised by this information and that’s even more amusing, to the point that Keith can’t help but let an audible laugh slip out. Lance huffs in annoyance on the other end of the call. “Look, he’s like two times your size, I’m not saying you’re not-”

“Get to the point, Lance.”

“Do you think he’d ever-”

“Let you fuck him? No.” Keith interrupts him again, starting to feel a little smug the longer the conversation goes on. He can’t help it, Lance is so out of his element, usually the roles are reversed and he’s the one doing the ruthless teasing. Let Keith enjoy the moment, it doesn’t happen often.

“What the hell do you mean,  _ no _ ?! Why can’t I fuck him? I’m just as hot as you are!”

“I don’t know, Lance, you just don’t give off top energy.”

“Elaborate.” Lance deadpans, in that clipped tone that says Keith has just said the absolute wrong thing. Keith sighs heavily, tossing his head back and letting his hair fan out around him, staring up at the ceiling in thought. Not that he hasn’t put enough thought into this before to have a list of his exact reasoning for the opinion of Lance being a bottom, he’s just never thought about how he might put it into words when telling Lance. He never thought he’d have to.

“I’m not trying to make it about stereotypes here because we all know they aren’t nearly as much of a tell-all as some people make them out to be, but-”

“You’re digging your own hole here, Keith.” Lance warns him, starting to sound a bit annoyed now, though Keith can tell he’s smiling anyway. Keith groans, annoyed at himself, and scrubs one of his disgusting hands across his sweaty face.

“Damn it, Lance, I don’t know how to say it! You’re just, you’re so, you’re… fuckable.” Keith immediately regrets saying that out loud, but by now there’s no backtracking, so he just ploughs ahead blindly. “You seem like you’d prefer to be bossed around and roughed up, I can’t see you calling the shots. Even with girls, I always sort-of assumed… they gave the orders and you followed.”

After that, there’s a long pause on the other end of the line and Keith starts to worry he’s said something completely and entirely wrong, managing to genuinely offend his friend.

“Seems like you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” 

“Fuck off. I have not. You brought it up!” Keith says, maybe a bit too defensively, and Lance erupts into giggles in his ear. Despite himself and his pride, Keith finds himself grinning like a fool right along with him, resisting the urge to laugh at his own stupidity.

“You called me fuckable, Keith.” Lance points out, making Keith wince. “Have you put a lot of thought into that too? What it’d be like to fuck me?”

“No!” Keith shouts, burying his face directly into the pillow in shame. Lance is cackling now, full-on losing it, and Keith wants to hate it even though he knows he can’t. He loves hearing Lance laugh, loves hearing him be so happy, loves talking to him. “Jesus, Lance, what’s gotten into you lately?”

“I don’t know? I’ve just been weirdly horny the past few weeks.” Lance says then, abruptly, like it isn’t the information with the exact power to crush Keith’s soul. Because fuck, the thought of Lance being anywhere near as horny as he’s been… Lance, alone in his bed, frantically tugging on his cock and fucking three slick fingers into his ass. Fuck. “I’m sorry, was that TMI? Am I being weird?”

“No, it’s fine.” Keith says shortly, silently begging himself not to get hard again at the thought of it.

“Alright, well, to spare some of my dignity I think I’m gonna hang up and try to find a booty call before I keep coming onto my friends.” Lance chuckles. “Let’s hang-out soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure.” Keith says, already slipping his hand back down his body in resigned acceptance.

\--

As fitful and miserable as his sleep has been, Keith still feels the loss when his phone goes off next to his pillow and wakes him fully. He groans, feeling unrested and annoyed, and lifts his head to glare into the darkness. Strangely, for how late it is, his room isn’t dark at all and he has no trouble spotting his phone where it’s tangled up in the sheets. 

He answers the call with a huff, using his free hand to scrub at his eye.

“Keith? You there?” Lance’s voice comes crackling through the speaker immediately, before Keith can even manage a greeting. From that moment on, Keith is wide awake, eyes flying open fully as he scrambles to sit up. Something about Lance’s tone is off, something’s wrong, Keith can tell from each hitching breath that filters through the speaker.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Keith reassures him immediately, something fiercely protective taking over his mind. He forgets his lack of sleep, forgets the painstaking hours he’d been up beforehand with his hand around his cock because of this very man. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Can you come get me?” Lance asks then, and Keith is out of bed before he even finishes the sentence, hastily pulling jogging pants up his legs and nearly tumbling over in the process.

“Where are you?”

“Ugh, I don’t remember, I’ll have to text you the address.” Lance sounds so distraught, though Keith can’t help but get the feeling most of it is self-directed. He pauses, waiting on Lance to elaborate a little further, worried about what his friend has gotten himself into this time. Eventually, Lance takes the cue and goes into a little more detail. “It was supposed to be a hook-up but then when clothes started to come off I just felt… wrong. So I  _ told him _ that and he kicked me out. I have no drive home and no jacket and I feel like such a fucking idiot but I’m really upset about the whole thing and-”

“Hey, no, none of this is your fault. I’ll be there in a minute.” Keith promises, putting him on speaker so he can hastily pull a shirt over his head. “Are you safe? Is he still there?”

“He’s texting me now telling me to come back, but I’m at the cafe across the street and I don’t think he’ll come looking for me. I should be okay.” Lance sounds so small, nothing like his usual upbeat self, impossible to discourage. It’s rare that Lance finds himself feeling down at all, let alone so badly that he actually swallows his pride and calls Keith to talk about it or ask for help. These moments are far and few between so Keith knows without a doubt how important it is that he shows up for them, every single time.

“Do you want me to stay on the call while I drive?” Keith asks, checking his texts to see the address already sent to him. He snatches his keys off the table and jogs down the stairs leading up to his apartment, quickly heading to his car. 

“No… I should be fine until you get here. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

“Alright, stay safe, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Keith promises, his heart pounding as concern gnaws away at him. And if he speeds the entire way there, taking corners too fast and passing every car traveling at the speed limit… well, no one needs to know that. Least of all Lance.

The cafe is a tiny little place, one of those ones that stays open twenty-four hours to serve coffee to night shift employees working at the nearby hospital. Keith finds it easily enough and swings into a parking space, pulling his leather jacket on and strolling confidently inside, eyes searching the entire room for Lance from the very moment the bell dings above the door.

He spots him easily enough, in the back corner by an empty booth, bickering with another man.

Keith feels his upper lip pull back in a snarl of sorts, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

He crosses the room in long strides, his vision swimming with red, an anger boiling in him hotter than he’s ever known. He doesn’t even announce his presence, just comes up behind the guy and grabs a handful of his shirt, wrenching him backward and shoving him bodily into the table. He crumples over like a house of cards, no strength beneath the legs he’s standing on. And Keith looms over him threateningly, daring him to try and get back up.

“Keith!” Lance hisses, grabbing onto his jacket sleeve to try and hold him back. Keith gently shrugs him off, barely sparing him a sidelong glance before zeroing back in on his target.

“What the hell, man?! What’s your problem!?”

“ _ You _ .” Keith growls out, managing to unsettle himself with how low his voice has gone, barely recognizable compared to the way he normally speaks. He steps closer, shoving the man back down when he attempts to push himself onto his feet again. “What part of ‘not interested’ is so hard for you to fucking understand?  _ Leave Lance alone _ .”

“And who the hell are you supposed to be? His boyfriend?” The man laughs wickedly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Seriously, I don’t care who you are, this is between me and Lance, it’s none of your business what we get up to behind closed d-”

“It’s  _ exactly  _ my business because he doesn’t want to do anything with you, much less behind closed doors. You put your hands on him again and I swear to god I’ll tear them off.” Keith argues, and this time when his chest rumbles it doesn’t sound like a purr at all, it’s the threatening low vibrations of an animalistic growl. The man stares at him in bewilderment, scrambling to his feet like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, eyes wide.

“What the hell…”

“Come on, Keith, let’s go.” Lance presses again, tugging on his sleeve, eyes narrowed into a glare that leaves little room for argument. And if it were anyone else, Keith probably wouldn’t be able to fight his instincts enough to walk away from a fight, but it’s not, it’s Lance. Keith grumbles as he lowers his head, letting Lance pull him toward the door.

They almost manage to make it through it, too… but then a hand grabs the back of Keith’s hair and yanks him backward by the grip, his ass hitting the floor with a thud. He doesn’t even have time to start to right himself before a fist connects with his jaw with a sickening crack.

“Keith!” Lance sounds worried, but Keith isn’t sure how to tell him that his jaw is fine, that it was actually the man’s knuckles that crumpled under the impact. Besides, Keith has some other priorities right about now, as he jumps to his feet in one leap and spins around to face the man again. He’s holding his injured hand, looking at Keith like he’s a monster, and maybe he is because he surely fucking feels like one right now.

Keith is on him in an instant, like a wild animal let loose from its cage. He pounces toward him, throwing punch after punch, brutal in the way he swings the man around and throws him to the ground. Keith climbs on top of him then, teeth bared as he grinds his fist into the man’s face over and over again, until his knuckles are coming away bloodied and bruised, until the man is begging him to show some mercy and stop, and still he doesn’t.

“Stop, you idiot, stop!” Lance grabs hold of his wrist when he winds his fist back for the next punch in a line of many. Keith pauses, blinking a few times, trying to come back to himself and swim through the sea of red rage in his vision. Lance’s touch is gentle, but insistent. He pulls Keith backward until he’s shakily standing on two feet, head spinning as he comes back to himself in pieces, only now registering the severity of what he’s done.

The man on the floor looks mangled. The women behind the counter look horrified, no doubt having already called the cops. And any customers that had once been in the store are long gone.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Keith blurts out, grabbing Lance’s hand and leading him to the doors, his heart racing with adrenaline even still. They’re quick as they jog to Keith’s car, sliding into their respective seats before the engine roars to life a moment later. Lance doesn’t say a word, but Keith can hear the gears in his mind turning, can tell he certainly has an opinion or two on what just happened. Keith isn’t looking forward to the inevitable lecture.

They’re ten minutes into their drive back to Keith’s apartment when Lance finally speaks up.

“What the fuck, Keith?” It’s not quite as in-depth as Keith was expecting, but it seems they’re both still struggling to come to terms with what just transpired. Keith swallows hard, gripping the steering wheel harder, glaring at the red smeared across his knuckles.

“You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve it.” Keith grits out through his teeth.

“No, he did, just… that was pretty aggressive. I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me, we could have just left.”

“No, then he might have tried to reach out to you again, this way maybe he’ll take the damn hint and leave you alone.” Keith huffs, shifting around in his seat, feeling antsy and on-edge even still. It’s been a while since he’s gotten into a fight, though his teenage days were plagued with them. He’d put that all behind him though, or at least he thought. But seeing Lance in danger short-circuited something in his mind, reduced him to a baser instinct to protect and defend. 

He turns to Lance then, completely invested. “You’ll tell me if he messages you again, right?”

“I don’t know if I will if you’re gonna be this psycho about it.” Lance mutters with a pout on his face, bottom lip jutting out adorably. Keith averts his eyes, focusing back on the road ahead of him, trying to ignore the dueling urges in the pit of his stomach. It’s awful, the mixture of bloodthirst for violence and the saccharine sweet pull of lust and desire. He’s not sure he can hold them both at bay, not in his weakened state, with Lance’s scent clouding his thoughts and filling the car.

He’s trying his best to concentrate on driving, and he’s almost making it work, when one of Lance’s hands settles nervously on his thigh. Keith nearly veers the car off the road in his shock and Lance recoils his hand, but he’s still staring at Keith intently, determined. “Hey, look at me, talk to me.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t  _ kill him _ , Lance, trying to put his hands on you when you didn’t want it.”

“Keith, I’m okay, I’m fine. You were there, you took care of it, everything’s fine now.” Lance tries to soothe him, reaching over again to put a hand on his shoulder. Keith flinches away from the touch, exhaling heavily, all but biting down on his tongue to keep from making an audible sound in reaction. Lance stares at him in shock, looking unmistakably hurt. 

When Keith doesn’t offer an explanation, Lance eventually sinks back into his seat and chooses to fill the silence on his own. “Thank-you, by the way. I don’t want you to think I’m not appreciative of what you did for me because I am. I just worry about you, you already have some charges against you for fights and I-” 

“Don’t worry about me.” Keith grunts, pressing his boot into the pedal harder, speeding up the vehicle as he grows progressively more uncomfortable with the topic. He hates this, hates the skin-crawling heat sinking through him, hates the way his body reacts to Lance’s presence like a fucking pre-teen to their crush. It’s pathetic.

“Well, someone has to, clearly you don’t.” Lance argues, growing noticeably irritated now. Keith ignores him, glaring at the streetlights ahead of them. He wishes Lance would drop it, wishes they could drive in silence until they reach the house. At least there it’s a more open space, Lance’s scent won’t be quite so strong, he’ll be able to clear his head and maybe shower the blood off of himself…

Keith risks a glance over at Lance and finds those bright blue eyes already staring back at him, something suspicious in their squint. “Are you sure you’re okay? He got a couple good punches in and you’re looking pretty pale right now. Paler than usual, I mean.”

“I’m fine.” Keith manages, his tone clipped. Unsurprisingly, with how long they’ve been friends, Lance immediately picks up on how much of a lie that is. Keith hears the audible click of his seatbelt unbuttoning and groans, already knowing what’s coming. “ _ Lance _ .”

“I just wanna check on you, Keith, don’t be difficult.” Lance snarks back at him, leaning over the center console and bracing himself with a hand on Keith’s shoulder. He leans into Keith’s space, his breaths soft and nervous where they ghost over Keith’s cheek, setting his skin alight in an entirely new way. 

Lance brings a hand up to his face and brushes his hair back, settling his palm against Keith’s forehead. Keith whimpers at the touch, melting the slightest bit into his seat, nearly forgetting to focus on the road entirely. “Jesus. You’re burning up! Keith, should you really be driving right now?”

The thought of pulling over and sitting alone with Lance in this car for the foreseeable future is the most smothering thing Keith can think of right now. He knows he won’t be able to control himself much longer, doesn’t dare to think what might happen if they’re stuck here together when the pull gets too strong and Keith can’t fight his body’s urges a moment longer.

He snaps.

“I’m fine, Lance! Fuck off, stop smothering me!” Keith shouts, whipping around at Lance and baring his teeth, panting heavily as he does so. The car swerves so hard that the only thing to stabilize it is Lance grabbing the wheel at the last second, eyes wide and astonished as he stares at Keith like he’s seeing him through new eyes for the first time.

Keith shrinks, foot tapping the brake and slowing the car to a stop, guilt immediately surging through him. He feels awful. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Keith.” Lance interrupts him, tone measured and even, like he’s putting a great deal of effort into not stepping on Keith’s toes again. He holds up his hands between them, drawing a deep shaky breath, still staring at Keith like he’s seen a ghost. “Promise me something? Don’t freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?” Keith furrows his brows in confusion.

“Your teeth… they’re different.” Lance offers, eloquently, a world of insight. Keith looks at him like he’s lost his mind, sitting up taller and leaning forward to peer into the rearview mirror in confusion.

“What do you mean they’re different? They’re teeth, they don’t-” Keith stops dead in the middle of the sentence, jaw dropping as his fingers pry back his upper lip to reveal shiny white fangs in the place of his usual blunt canine teeth. A lifetime of fears about being different, other, and “alien” come rushing to the forefront of Keith’s mind, all of them confirmed at this very moment.

He presses a fingertip to one pointed fang, curses when a bead of blood immediately wells to the surface despite the lack of pressure. They’re sharp as knives. “What the  _ fuck _ ?!”

Keith panics, flattening himself back against his seat, heart racing and breath stuttering.

“Hey! I said don’t freak out!” Lance leans into his place, throwing an arm around him and pulling him into a hug. And as much as Keith doesn’t have the heart to say as much, it only manages to make everything so much fucking worse, as he gulps down lungfuls of Lance’s scent and it ignites him like gasoline to a fire. As if he could feel any less normal right about now, he’s really going to get hard at a time like this. “Alright, I’m not sure what’s going on, but we should get you to a hospital-”

“No!” Keith shouts, not wanting anyone else to know about this. He squirms out of Lance’s grip and pries the door open, stumbling out into the cool night air and breathing it in deeply. He’s half-hard in his pants and he’s certain it’s not subtle, so he doubles over and braces his hands against his knees, his world spinning as he dissolves into panic. 

He hears the door slam as Lance gets out of the car and follows him, and he smells it when he gets close enough to place a hand on Keith’s trembling shoulders. “Get away!”

“I’m not going anywhere, I won’t leave you to deal with this alone.” Lance insists, rubbing a hand up and down Keith’s back, following the line of his spine. Keith shakes beneath the touch, like a weak knot coming undone, like a leaf in the face of a tropical storm. 

“Lance, listen to me.” Keith inhales deeply, trying his best to keep his tone even and calm. “There’s something seriously wrong with me. It’s been going on for a while. I need you to leave, for your own good. Please. I’m begging you, just go.”

“No.” Lance says simply, without room for argument, as stubborn as ever. He keeps rubbing Keith’s back, like a man trying to console a startled animal. “What are the symptoms? We’ll figure it out together, I’ll call the hospital and drive you there, I don’t care if I only have my learner’s. Talk to me.”

And it’s tempting, of course it is, Keith has never had a problem he can remember that he couldn’t take to Lance for advice. Lance has been beside him for so long, unwavering and loyal, always there to help no matter what Keith was going through and how alone he felt with it. Even if Lance didn’t understand, he always listened and tried his best. Maybe this isn’t so different… maybe Keith can open up to him again. Obviously, he can’t tell him the whole truth, but maybe some of it.

He picks his head up, making eye contact with Lance for the first time in minutes.

It’s a mistake as much as it’s a relief. Keith feels a weight off his shoulders in the same way he feels heat sear through him, arousal clouding his vision to the point he barely registers the kind smile he’s staring at. He has to tear his eyes away, can’t bear to look a second longer.

“It’s just… everything is so much. All the time. Sights, sounds, scents, even the way things taste. It’s like all my senses are working on overdrive and it’s so overwhelming.”

“So, sensory overload?” Lance tries, clearly confused but trying his best, those skillful hands still massaging up and down Keith’s back. Up and down, up and down, up and down… Keith wishes desperately that he could have those hands anywhere else. Everywhere else. Petting him all over.

“No, it’s not that, it’s something more.” Keith shakes his head. “It’s… it’s like I can’t control myself anymore. My body gets these crazy whims and urges, and I’m helpless to it.”

“Alright, uh, what kind of urges?” Lance tries, sounding stiff. Keith looks up at him, his expression bored, his eyes filled with misery. “Look, just tell me they’re not murderous ones and-”

“They’re not murderous… usually.” Keith immediately regrets his choice of words when he sees the horror play out across Lance’s pretty features. He grumbles, backtracking quickly. “Tonight was the first time they’ve been violent like that and I think it was only because of you. It wasn’t that I wanted to hurt him as much as I wanted to protect you.”

“Aw, well, I don’t see what’s so bad about that? Are you sure there’s something weird going on?”

“ _ Lance _ .” Keith straightens up despite himself, painstakingly aware of the outline no doubt visible in his pants at this point. His cock is fully hard, aching and throbbing in the confines of his pants, and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stand it before he has to take off running into the woods to take care of it. It’s so fucking embarrassing he could curl up and die, but Lance at least deserves to know what’s going on and why Keith has been acting so weird lately.

“... What aren’t you telling me?” Lance asks then, his smile fading. “Keith?”

“It’s worse when I’m around you.” 

“The murderous urges?”

“No, you idiot, the other ones.” 

“Keith, you’re gonna have to clarify better than that.” Lance tells him gently, reaching a hand out to cup his face, slowly stroking his thumb along the curve of Keith’s cheekbone. And Keith, weak man that he is, leans into the touch and lets his eyes fall closed. It doesn’t even catch him off guard when the purring starts up in his chest this time, and he doesn’t bother to try and hide it, just opens his eyes and looks guiltily into Lance’s. He feels helpless, pinned by that starstruck stare. “Keith? Wh-”

“I don’t… feel like myself around you.” 

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re not alone.”

“Come on, Lance, you can’t even say that this time.” Keith scoffs, pulling away from him and stomping toward the tree line. His discomfort has only grown, and it’s starting to feel actually painful, like he could crumple onto his knees and lay there in agony. “Name one other person on Earth that’s gone through this. You get within five feet of me and I become this mindless, slobbering, stupid fucking animal.”

Keith kicks at a rock on the ground, reaching up to pull at his hair, wondering dismally if he’s said too much. He hopes this won’t be the final straw, that this won’t be the thing to make Lance walk away.

“... I can name _ one _ .”

“What?” Keith turns back to him in confusion, only feeling more lost when he sees the pink blush spreading across Lance’s cheeks, so bold it’s unmistakable even in the dark of the night. God, he’s more flustered than Keith has maybe ever seen him, even more-so than when he’s trying to flirt his way into the pants of a girl or guy way out of his league. He looks beside himself with nerves.

“It’s been happening to me too.” Lance blurts. Keith’s eyes widen a fraction more. “Sort-of. I don’t think it’s been as bad as you have it, I haven’t noticed the pointy teeth or murderous urges or anything, but when I’m around you it’s like I don’t have any control over myself, I’m just so fucking-”

“Horny?” Keith interrupts without thinking it through, regretting it the moment the word is past his lips. Oh god, he’s such a fucking idiot, there’s no taking that one back. He’s definitely said too much, this is the dealbreaker, no way is Lance gonna look him in the eye and say earnestly that they can still be friends after Keith just admitted he’s so savagely horny for him that he can’t even control the urge to mount him like a damn animal in the middle of-

“Yeah!” Lance agrees excitedly, face alight with a smile, looking way more relieved than the horrified he should be right about now. Keith blinks, dumbfounded, but Lance just continues right along with the confession like it’s nothing. “Okay, thank god, I thought I was losing my mind or something. It started up maybe three weeks ago and at first it wasn’t too bad, I could ignore it, I thought maybe I just needed a good fuck or something. I mean, it’s hardly the first time I’ve had stray sex thoughts about you, yanno?”

“Wh-”

“Like, when two bros have been as close as we have for as long as we have it’s kind-of a given that eventually that happens. But then it just kept getting worse, and worse, and-

“Fuck.” Keith thinks back to three weeks ago, thinks of that night in the dark of his own living room, his cockhead smearing cum into Lance’s skin. Guilt hits him stronger than it had even then.

“And like, I’ve tried hooking up with other people, but I can’t go through with it! It makes me feel sick to my stomach the second I start touching them, it just feels wrong. But it keeps getting worse, literally I’ve popped so many boners at school the past two weeks I’m surprised no one’s mentioned anything, and I don’t know how to stop it! And then when I’m with you, fuck, it’s all I can do to keep myself from fucking jumping your bones.”

“I think it’s my fault.” Keith admits with a sigh. Maybe he transmitted some sort-of freak disease through exchanging bodily fluids. God, he doesn’t know how to admit this to Lance, doesn’t know anything anymore. He’s such an awful friend, to make Lance go through anything even remotely similar to the hell he’s been dealing with. “Whatever’s wrong with me, you must have caught it from me. It’s the only thing that makes sense, I gave you some weird one-in-a-million disease and now-”

“Now we’re in this together.” Lance interrupts him firmly, reaching out to take his hand and squeeze it, reassuring even in a moment like this. They hold eye contact for a long, lingering moment, the air between them charged with something different than it ever has been. And then, inevitably, Lance’s gaze drops and his eyes widen comically. “O-Oh, wow, holy shit. Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just really, really,  _ really _ happy to see me?”

“Shut-up, Lance.” Keith sighs, turning on his heel and heading back toward the car. Lance is close beside him though, so close that it’s hard to concentrate. It’s to the point that Keith is certain he can smell the subtle shifts in Lance’s scent depending on the emotions he’s feeling. And right now, he smells sweet, almost sickeningly so. Even without ever having smelled it before, Keith knows exactly what it means, knows that if he looked down he’d see a matching outline in Lance’s pants right about now too. 

… He doesn’t look. He’s barely holding onto his self-control by a thread as it is.

“I’m serious though, is it always that big or is that a side-effect of the curse too?”

“We’re not cursed.” Keith answers, deciding to ignore the first part of the question entirely, for the sake of his own sanity. He doesn’t want to have this discussion with Lance ever, let alone right now, when he’s so hard it hurts with every step he takes toward the car. And Lance is just there, bouncing along eagerly beside him, too close and too warm… and Keith doesn’t have the strength to put any space between them.

“Oh yeah? Well, what kind of illness makes you super fucking horny, answer me that.”

“I don’t know, Lance.”

“How do you think we cure it?”

“If I knew that, don’t you think I would have done it by now?”

“Well, maybe, unless the cure is giving in and fucking each other.” Lance says, casually, as he steps ahead and holds open the car door for Keith. Keith doesn’t climb inside though, instead he stays frozen where he’s standing, looking at Lance like he’s lost his mind. Lance grins back at him, bold and blinding, clearly not ashamed in the slightest. “What? I’m just saying? If that was the case, you’d be too nervous to ask.”

“In what world would that be the cure?”

“I don’t know, it’s what our bodies want, maybe they’ll want something else if we give in.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Keith says then, pushing past him and ducking into the car. He settles behind the wheel, the sound of his racing heartbeat pulsing in his ears. Lance slides into the passenger seat a moment later, apparently still not done with the topic if the way he instantly launches into a debate isn’t obvious enough.

“Oh, come on, sex between friends as close as we are is nothing.” Lance insists, folding his arms behind his head and spreading his legs wide. This time, Keith’s eyes land on his lap entirely by accident, but once they’re there there’s no moving them. The pants Lance is wearing must be leggings or something, comically stretchy and thin as they are, they leave nothing to the imagination at all. Keith thinks he might even see a budding wet spot where the top of his cock is pressed to the inside of the fabric. Fuck. “You can’t even say you don’t want it, obviously you do.”

“I can’t.” Keith insists, shaking his head to try and clear it. Beside him, Lance is leaning over the center console again, dangerously close to pressing his face into Keith’s shoulder. Keith leans away from him, gently shoving him back. “Lance, how am I supposed to take anything you say seriously if you’re just as affected as I am? You can’t consent like this, it’s messing with your head.”

“Fine. Just take me home.” Lance sighs, sounding outright annoyed now. Keith hangs his head, but he does as he’s told, starting the car. Then, as Lance’s scent starts to waft in his direction, Keith gets an idea and pulls his shirt up over his nose to muffle the scent. Granted, Lance notices him doing it, and he looks rightfully offended. “Seriously?”

“You don’t understand, your scent when we’re in close quarters like this is-”

“Now you’re telling me I stink? Jesus, Keith, just tell me you don’t want to have sex with me.”

“I didn’t say that!” Keith whines, but Lance has already turned away to stare out his window, blatantly ignoring the entire exchange. Keith glares at the back of his head, but he turns back to the road ahead anyway. “Whatever.”

“Whatever.” Lance repeats, in his most bitter and cruel tone, making it no secret at all that he’s anything but happy with the way Keith is handling this. Keith ignores it, focuses on getting them home safely. For both their sakes, he’s just going to take Lance straight home. He doesn’t want to think about what might end up happening if they both go back to Keith’s place alone.

The drive isn’t a particularly long one, but it feels like it with Lance so quiet in the seat next to him. 

Keith hasn’t even dared to look at him the entire time, afraid of how easily his control will be weakened with Lance staring back at him. And with the added benefit of his heavy jacket muffling the scent, Keith feels almost halfway normal, his erection even starting to slowly wilt as he concentrates on driving. It’s for the best, if they’re going to discuss this it should be when they have plenty of space between them, over the phone.

But, well, it’s not like Lance to be this quiet. He must be genuinely upset and despite how much easier it would be, Keith can’t let the night end like that. He doesn’t want Lance to be hurt by this, he wants him to understand where he’s coming from, and there’s only one way to do that.

Slowly, Keith reaches up to lower the cover from his face.

“Lance, look, I’ll figure this out and get us back to normal. You just have to be patient with me, I’m just as confused as you are-” Keith cuts himself off when he finally takes a deep inhale, immediately rendered speechless by the sheer amount of sex clinging to the air. 

The car swerves again, Keith’s foot slamming down on the brakes as the car hits the curb. 

Keith turns to Lance like a deer in headlights, immediately choking on his own spit when he sees the state his friend is in. Leaning back in his seat with his cock pulled out of the front of his pants, one hand hastily working over it in long, certain strokes. It’s leaking a pool of pre-cum across his knuckles, letting it drip down over his stomach.

Keith reaches down quietly and puts the car in park.

“Keith.” Lance whines, this reedy desperate little noise, and Keith forgets what self-control means entirely in that moment. Those big blue eyes focus on him, pupils blown wide into black circles of lust, and Keith caves in. “Come on, Keith, _ fuck me _ . I know you want to.”

“I _ can’t _ .”

“But you want to, don’t you?” Lance counters, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, toothy and feral. It’s nothing like Lance’s usual smile, though Lance doesn’t really seem like himself in any regard right now. And the longer Keith sits there with his nose uncovered, breathing in the musky scent of Lance’s lusty pheromones… the less he feels like himself.

Lance is still pumping his cock with a loose fist, making hitching little noises of pleasure with each downward stroke. “You want it so fucking bad. Fuck. I could hear your vibrator going the other day, you know, I knew what you were doing the whole time. Drove me fucking insane.”

“Lance.”

“I wanna suck your cock, fuck, please? Please, Keith, let me-” 

“This is a bad idea.” Keith says, even as he leans his seat back and makes room. Lance leans over the center console again, this time lowering his head into Keith’s lap. He buries his face into Keith’s lap before even pulling his pants down, nuzzling against the growing bulge there, inhaling deeply like the scent is affecting him just as much as it is Keith. And when he picks his head up again and blinks up at Keith, he looks ruined, jaw slack and eyes unfocused.

“Doesn’t feel like one.” Lance grins. “Feels like a _ great  _ idea to me.”

Keith doesn’t protest, just leans back against the chair and braces himself, even daring to wind his fingers through Lance’s short, choppy hair. Lance is quick to pull him free from his jogging pants after that, pushing them hastily down Keith’s legs and then grinning as he lays eyes on Keith’s bare swollen cock for the first time.

As much as Keith doesn’t want to fucking talk about it, it is bigger than it used to be. Since this whole nightmarish horny-plague began, that was the change in his body he noticed first, maybe due to the sheer amount of time he spent tugging on the damn thing. It was hard to miss when his cock grew a solid couple inches, or the way it felt harder at the base now, almost uncomfortably so. He’s wondered more than once if it might be a cancer of some type, but hasn’t worked up the nerve to go get it checked out.

Lance has no complaints, at least.

“Fuck, it’s so big.” Lance sighs happily, leaning in to lap across the slit, gathering up the salty pre-cum resting there and swallowing it down eagerly. He moans as he does, eyelashes fluttering and tongue darting out to lick his lips. “You taste _ so  _ good, Keith.”

Keith has given _ and _ received his fair share of head, “good” is hardly the word he’d use to describe how cock tastes. Lance looks beside himself with it though, giddy as he opens his lips and loosely fits them around the head, kissing at it with an adoring goofy grin on his face. And it feels so fucking unreal, Keith can hardly _ think _ , let alone remember to question it.

Lance sucks his cock like it’s a privilege, like it’s a job and he’s determined to do it right. He works the cock in his mouth with expert ease, wrapping his lips tightly around the shaft and bobbing his head up and down. He looks beautiful as he does it too, Keith can’t tear his eyes off of him, the ethereal way his cheeks hollow and his eyes flutter open to try and hold Keith’s stare. 

“ _ Hnng _ , fuck. Your mouth is so good. Holy shit.” Keith praises, throwing his head back against the headrest, a steady purr buzzing to life and rattling in his chest. Lance doesn’t comment on it, just doubles his efforts, until Keith can’t help but let his hips buck up into the heat of his mouth. 

Lance takes it well, a disgruntled little groan and then he’s right back to it, bobbing his head up and down with single minded focus. Keith forces himself to pick his head back up so he can watch properly, utterly invested in the way Lance takes a cock down his throat. 

He reaches down, framing Lance’s face with his hands, gripping his jaw and gently pulling him down further on his cock. Lance stares up at him, eyes so damn blue and trusting, and Keith tightens his grip to force him down harder. Lance moans, a wet gurgling sound as Keith’s cockhead hits the back of his throat, over and over again. 

Lance introduces his hands soon after that, gripping the base of Keith’s cock tightly to hold it steady while he grows more and more enthusiastic. He drags his tongue up and down the underside of Keith’s cock, tracing every bulging vein beneath the skin, teasingly flicking at the head and tracing the tip of his tongue around the crown. It’s infuriatingly clear how experienced Lance is at sucking cock, he makes it look easy as he rocks Keith’s world like no one else ever has.

And that hand gripping the base of Keith’s cock, so tight and warm… fuck. It’s somehow even better than Lance’s devilish tongue and soft plush lips. It’s grounding pressure, it’s a blatant relief, it’s somehow exactly what Keith needs as he gets closer and closer to a finish that feels like it might be satisfying for the first time in weeks…

Then Lance stops.

_ Completely. _

He picks himself up until they’re face to face, and Keith can’t even hold back his frustrated snarl of annoyance. Lance looks like he knows exactly what misery he’s caused too, a smug grin on his face.

“You know what I think you should do?”

“What?” Keith grits out, glaring at him. He’s feeling anything but cooperative right about now. He was so close, so very fucking close, and now he’s right back to that unsatisfying plateau he’s grown so used to when it comes to getting off. 

If anything, what he “ _ should _ ” be doing right now is grabbing Lance by the scruff of his neck and pulling him right back down on his cock, using his throat just like he uses that fleshlight he has at home, until he’s coughing and gagging on a mouthful of salty, warm cum.

“I think... you should bend me over the hood of this fancy car of yours and show me exactly how badly you’ve been wanting this.” Lance grins, winking at him, and Keith feels something in himself snap. His purr is quickly replaced by a growl, low and threatening, and there’s never been a clearer warning in the history of warnings. Still, Lance doesn’t back down, instead leaning into his space and teasingly brushing his swollen lips against Keith’s. “Don’t you want that,  _ Keith _ ? Don’t you wanna fuck me, right here, right now? Where anyone could see us? Claim my ass the same way you’ve had my throat?”

“You’re fucking insatiable.” Keith snaps, darting forward to capture Lance’s mouth in a kiss, quick enough to catch him entirely off-guard. Lance gives a surprised little grunt, but then he’s moaning, relaxing into it eagerly as Keith slips his tongue into his mouth and tastes himself there. Lance kisses him back eagerly, winding his fingers into Keith’s shirt and tightening his grip until every breath Keith draws is shaky and stilted. 

By the time they separate, Lance is sprawled fully in Keith’s lap, working his hips down against Keith’s in winding little circles, rutting their bare cocks together for any delicious friction he can manage to find. When Keith backs away from the kiss, Lance whines like a needy puppy, burying his face into Keith’s neck and kissing across his throat.

“Please. Fuck me.” He whispers, breathy and desperate. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck-”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize you were trying to seduce me sooner.” Keith chuckles lowly, reaching down to wrap a hand around Lance’s cock, giving it a few halfhearted strokes before letting his hand trail lower. 

He rolls Lance’s balls in his palm a couple times, quickly boring of that as well, and venturing back between his legs. Lance gasps when Keith’s fingers find the tight rim of his hole, rubbing back and forth across it, grinning at the sheer amount of wetness gathered there. “Baby, are you wet? You want it that badly? Your body’s gonna make a pussy for me to fuck into?”

“Fuck off.” Lance snaps, plainly embarrassed even as he grinds back against Keith’s palm, trying in vain to coax those fingers inside of himself. “It’s a… it must be a symptom. Of the curse.”

“Not a curse.” Keith insists, even as he enjoys the full range of the effects, dipping two fingers into Lance’s body at once and marveling at how the muscle gives with ease to take them in. Lance moans, legs shaking on either side of Keith’s lap, his flushed little cock pulsing as a glob of pre-cum swells at the tip of it. Keith grins, hitching his fingers cruelly and pressing them inside hard, deciding to show off his own level of experience. 

The moan Lance gives at  _ that _ is loud enough to make the glass of the windows rattle, Keith is sure, like something straight out of a porno. 

Easily amused, Keith hunkers down and commits to it, grinding his fingers in deeper and teasing that very same spot until Lance is a gasping, drooling, quivering mess in his lap. He’s shaking with it, face buried into Keith’s shoulder as he whines and whimpers through the thorough finger-fucking. Keith gives it to him good, thrusting his hand up into him hard, listening to the quiet wet squelch of slick as his fingers slide through it.

“Pretty thing, how does that feel?  _ Good _ ? Or do you need something more to satisfy this greedy hole of yours, hm?”

“Don’t tease me, Keith, I swear to god.” Lance pants, even as his hips rock back and forth, riding Keith’s hand like they’ve done this a hundred times before, like it’s happening without Lance’s approval because his body just can’t resist. Maybe he does have it worse than Keith, because though the base of his cock might ache something awful right about now, at least he’s not gushing like Lance’s hole is right now. 

He finally slips his fingers free, bringing his hand up between their bodies to examine the slick liquid covering his fingers. He spreads them apart, admires the way it webs between them, catching the light of the street lamp outside. Lance looks mortified now that he’s not actively lost in the pleasure, his eyes wide and cheeks pink. “Keith, stop messing around and touch m-”

Lance is rendered speechless when Keith brings his fingers to his mouth, slipping them past his lips and sucking them clean. He’s never been with a woman, so he can’t exactly compare it to that, but he imagines this might be what they taste like. Not nearly as acrid and viscous as semen, but that same natural, salty, taste. But more important than any other difference, is that it’s a taste that’s uniquely Lance, and Keith quickly finds himself feeling disappointed when he’s sucked his fingers clean of the slickness.

Lance is still gaping at him, clearly embarrassed, so Keith smirks at him.

“So, what’s this you were saying about wanting me to fuck you over the hood of my car?”

From that point on, Lance’s shyness is a thing of the past. They’re on a constant feedback loop, both getting more and more excited and antsy for what’s to come. Keith at least has the common sense to drive the car to somewhere a little more private, but it’s not an easy task, especially with Lance leaning into his space. He’s trying his best to concentrate on the road, while Lance kisses and sucks at his neck, a hand wrapped tight around his cock. 

It’s a miracle that they make it to the dirt road near the park in one piece.

It’s even more of a miracle that Keith manages to get out of the car with the way Lance is clinging to him, barely giving him room to breathe. 

Lance is quick to follow after him, giggling as he takes in the dark wooded surroundings. It’s not so far out of the city that they have to be worried about animals, but close to the park as it is there’s always the chance of a late night jogger stumbling upon them. Not that either one of them is particularly worried about that, wrapped up in each other as they are.

Lance strides confidently up to Keith and kisses him hard, tugging and pulling at his clothes until the articles hit the ground one by one. He tugs the jacket from Keith’s shoulders, rips his buttoned shirt down the middle and peels it off, then drops his pants with a wicked little grin that Keith ducks down to kiss off his lips. 

Left in nothing but his boots, Keith walks them back toward the car, never once breaking the kiss. He doesn’t stop until he feels Lance’s knees give out beneath him, hears the quiet thud as he settles on the edge of the hood. Keith pulls back to kiss across his jaw then, playfully nipping the sensitive skin just beneath it, working his way up to his ear. 

“Alright, baby, this is your cue.” Keith whispers, sucking his ear lobe past his lips and teasing it between his teeth. “Turn over and spread your legs, don’t make me wait for it.”

Lance is surprisingly quick to listen, considering how difficult he usually is outside of sex. Keith leans back and watches in amusement as Lance scrambles to turn over and lean over the hood of the car, reaching back to slide his pants down his long legs as he does. Keith watches the entire show, licking his lips when Lance stops to spread his cheeks, showing off the glistening pucker between them.

“Your eyes are glowing.” Lance points out with a laugh, not nearly as concerned by it as he probably should be, practically high with the amount of pheromones in the air between them. 

“All the better to see you with, my dear.” Keith jokes flatly, smirking as he steps closer and lands a spank to Lance’s ass, the fat rippling with the impact of his palm. Lance moans, folding his arms beneath his head and snuggling his face down into them. He shakes his ass back and forth, taunting, grinning cheekily over his shoulder at Keith.

“And what about your teeth? Don’t tell me you brought me out into these woods to eat me alive.”

“Maybe I did.” Keith shrugs, trailing his fingers between Lance’s cheeks, spreading the slick back and forth over his hole. The muscles jump beneath his touch, trying and failing to coax Keith’s fingers inside. Lance whines, arching his back, arching up into Keith’s touch. Keith grins something wolfish, leaning down to nip at the base of his spine. “You won’t stop me if I do. You’re such a good little bitch, so eager to please, you’ll spread your legs and _ let _ the big bad wolf  _ huff _ , and _ puff _ , and  _ blow your house down _ .”

Keith grabs him by the hips then and Lance squeals, kicking his legs out fruitlessly as Keith yanks them up into the air. He ducks down, burying his face between Lance’s cheeks and lapping his tongue wetly across his hole. And oh, the sound Lance makes at that, reedy and pleased like he’s never had anything better in his life. Keith could certainly get used to this.

He tries to be mindful of the teeth and claws as he pulls Lance back against his face, licking deep inside of him and feeling his muscles spasm around his tongue. Fuck, he’s tight, and here he’s absolutely soaked with slick. Keith laps it up eagerly, bringing a hand down between Lance’s legs to jerk him off as he does, jerking his cock with a loose halfhearted grip. He knows it’s not enough stimulation for Lance to get off on it, he can tell by the frustrated way Lance starts to rock back against his face, whimpering needily all the while.

Still, Keith thinks he might let him struggle for a while. He wants to hear him beg for it.

“Keith, please.” Lance pleads finally, accompanied by the sound of his hands sliding across the metal hood of the car, squeaking as they struggle to find any traction against it. Keith chuckles, effortlessly maneuvering Lance’s body and shoving him further up the hood, until he’s practically spread across it like a buffet. Keith gets to his feet, standing between those widespread legs, but keeping his grip in the center of Lance’s back to keep him where he is so he can’t back up onto it. 

He teases him, gripping his cock and rubbing the head back and forth between his cheeks, groaning as his cockhead slides through the mess of slick and saliva. And squirm as he may, Lance can’t manage to impale himself on it, can’t rock down and take it any deeper than the very tip. Oh, how he complains at that, fitful little huffs of frustration and grumbling quiet curses.

“What’s wrong, baby? You want something? You’d better ask for it.”

“Keith!” Lance shouts, slamming his hand down against the hood of the car. Keith tsks quietly, reaching up to run his fingers through Lance’s curls, scratching gently at his scalp.

“Uh-uh, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Fuck me, you asshole!” Lance demands petulantly, aiming a kick backward and managing to land it against Keith’s shin. Keith snarls, his grip on Lance’s hair tightening to a fist. He yanks Lance’s head back all at once, leaving his throat on display and his spine curved in a long slope. Lance gasps, squirming against his grip, but Keith doesn’t relent. 

“Are you really in any position to talk to me like that? Spread out beneath me, at my mercy, I think it might be in your favor to treat me with a little respect.” Keith keeps his tone even, giving his hair a playful tug, just enough for him to feel it. “Let me see how badly you want it. Are you soaked again already? Dripping all over this expensive paint job? Can’t help yourself, can you?”

“ _ Fuck _ .”

“Anyone could walk by and see it, and look at you, shaking your ass back and forth and begging. Bet you’d let anyone who happened to walk past stick it in, wouldn’t you?”

“Mm, maybe.” Lance jokes, yelping when Keith tugs his hair again. “Ow!”

“Try again.” Keith says levelly, sighing softly afterward in disappointment. Lance shifts awkwardly, his tone much meeker when he speaks up again, at least having the decency to seem remorseful.

“N-No, Keith, not anyone. Just you. Only you.” Lance promises, as sweet as ever, enough to give a man cavities with the amount of sucking-up he’s doing. Keith rolls his eyes. He sees right through the act, knows Lance is exaggerating on purpose to be a sarcastic little shit. “I wouldn’t let anyone else touch me like this.”

“Liar.” Keith huffs, and with that he grabs his cock again with his free hand and lines it up with Lance’s hole, pushing forward in one determined thrust. He sinks into Lance’s willing body easily, the muscle giving and all but sucking him inside, eager where it flutters around the length of his cock.

“Fuck!” Lance cries out, crumpling forward and heaving deep breaths, trying to adjust to the sudden intrusion. Keith chuckles, flexing his hips just enough for Lance to feel it, not daring to start fucking him in earnest just yet. He doesn’t want to hurt him, that’s never his intention, even now with sweltering flames flickering beneath his skin. 

Besides, Lance doesn’t hesitate to let him know the moment he’s ready for things to start moving ahead again. He picks himself up and rocks his hips back, rolling them in a sinuous grind that speaks worlds of experiences, practiced in the way he eases back onto Keith’s cock and uses it for his own pleasure. And Keith lets him, for now, sort-of impressed with the way Lance manages to call the shots from beneath him.

Eventually though, when Lance gets cocky and starts looking back at him with that shit-eating grin like he’s winning some unspoken game between them… Keith has to put him back in his place.

He collapses forward over Lance’s back and pins him to the hood of the car, sliding a hand under one of his thighs and hitching it up against the grill, leaving him spread wide where Keith’s hips start to piston into him in earnest. Immediately, Lance’s volume doubles, until he’s whining and shouting into the cool night air, scaring off all the local wildlife no doubt. 

He gasps and hiccups his way through the fucking of hi life, Keith’s impressive length stretching him open and pushing deeper inside of him than he’s ever taken anything before. He rocks with each thrust, sliding against smooth metal, and all the while Keith admires all of the bare, tan skin on display to him. 

He leans over him, mouthing at the back of his neck, teasingly nipping at the skin with his sharp fangs. And Lance doesn’t complain, he submits entirely, leaning his head to the side and offering Keith better access to his throat. 

Something about that does funny things to Keith’s head, makes him see red, any restraint he’d once been clinging to dissipating like a fog. 

Control gone, Keith grabs at Lance’s hips and digs his nails into soft flesh, anchoring his hold on Lance so he can start to furiously pull him back into each thrust. Over and over again, he fucks forward and pulls Lance back into the force of the thrust, humping him like an animal with little regard for how rough he’s being.

To Lance’s credit, he seems to be having a good time, if the sheer volume of his moans say anything. 

“Keith, oh my god, I’m not gonna last, I have to-”

“Go ahead.” Keith interrupts him, uncaring, distracted when his full attention is dedicated to chasing his own growing arousal. He can feel it, the heat of his distant orgasm, the desire building in the pit of his stomach, his cock throbbing needily within the hold of Lance’s heat. The ache is back with a vengeance, the base of his cock downright painful, but it’s easy enough to ignore it with such a pretty body beneath him. 

He laps at Lance’s neck, breathing heavily into the short hairs at the back of it. He brings a hand down to stroke Lance’s cock, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth across the leaking slit to tease him. “Wanna make you come undone over and over again. Gonna have you crying on my cock, begging me to stop and fuck you harder at the same time. Gonna breed you so well.”

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Lance screams, arching his ass up into Keith’s thrusts, his cock jumping in Keith’s hold. Keith doesn’t see it when Lance comes, but he feels it in the way he tightens around him, feels the wet drip of cum between his fingers as he works Lance’s cock through it. He certainly hears it too, he’s pretty sure the whole neighborhood must with how loud he gets.

Meanwhile, Keith finds himself distracted as the pain starts to give way to something else, his cock feeling harder than ever before, rigid where Lance’s body clenches down hard around it. 

“I want that.” Lance blurts the moment he’s come down enough to catch his breath. Even still, he’s panting, entire chest heaving where he’s sprawled across cool metal. Keith quirks a brow.

“Hm?”

“I want it. Want you to breed me.” Lance clarifies, shaking his hips tauntingly, as much as he can with Keith still buried so deep inside him. Keith finds a feral grin hitching up the corners of his lips, a hunger of sorts gnawing away at him as he admires the lithe body pressed to his.

“I’ll give it to you.” Keith promises, running a hand up and down Lance’s spine, reverent in the way he admires the other man after waiting for this moment for so very long. Lance tilts his head to the side to look back at him, cheeks flushed and hair a mess swept back from his face, and Keith has to fight the strong urge to stop everything to kiss the smile from his lips.

“Come on then, fuck me good, I wanna feel it.” Lance taunts him, eyes nearly black with lust, and Keith can only imagine the state he’s in right now. He licks his lips, grinning, and starts hitching his hips into Lance in short, staccato thrusts. Over and over again, with enough force behind them to send him sliding across the hood, only held stable by Keith’s grip on his hair. “O-Oh! Yes, just like that! Harder!”

When he pulls Lance back against him this time, sinking fully into the heat of his body, the aching base of his cock engulfed in the sweet slick inside of him… it triggers something in Keith. 

It’s the relief he’s been waiting on all this time, the satisfaction he’s been chasing that always ends up being just out of his grasp, exactly what he’s needed from that very first hasty orgasm he’d wrenched out of himself. This is it, this is what he needs, to be buried to the hilt inside of Lance when he comes.

From that moment on, Keith forgets himself, forgets everything but the feeling of Lance’s body hugging his cock while he desperately ruts against him. He fucks him hard and unforgiving, uncaring for Lance’s whines and cries, or the way he sobs when he comes a second time and Keith fucks him through it with the same rough pace.

Granted, after that Lance starts getting antsy, squirming and complaining audibly while Keith uses him to get off. He thrashes a little bit, pouting as he looks back at Keith, tears clinging to his eyelashes and a glare in his eyes. Still, his cock is hard, and his body works Keith’s cock like it knows exactly what to do.

“Stay.” Keith tells him, gently, but Lance continues to squirm away each time Keith’s cock plows back inside of him. Keith growls then, baring his teeth as he wraps a hand around Lance’s throat, pulling him back into it. “Stay still! Or I’ll pull out and leave you leaking slick all over yourself, pretty hole begging for a cock to plug it up again.”

“I can’t, it hurts.” Lance complains weakly, even as he spreads his legs wider, obedient even through all of his whining. Keith rolls his hips, rendered breathless when Lance tightens around him when he goes to pull out, clenching down around the base of his cock where it feels the most sensitive. Keith gasps, his vision swimming, his knees giving out as he crumbles forward and leans over Lance’s back.

“Shh, be a good mate.” Keith coaxes, licking his lips as he buries his face into Lance’s hair, inhaling the deep sated scent of him by the lungful. “Such a pretty little cocksleeve.” 

“Keith.” Lance mumbles, clearly embarrassed by the bluntness of Keith’s dirty talk… but in the same instant he tightens again, all but massaging Keith’s cock where he needs it most. He doesn’t even pull out now, just stays exactly where he is, letting Lance’s rim hug the base of his cock where it feels so full and heavy.

“This is all you’re good for, isn’t it? Spreading your legs and taking my cock, so desperate to feel my come dripping down your leg, aren’t you? Gonna take all of me, or will it even fit?”

“Keith?” Lance sounds confused, beginning to squirm again. 

“Shh, stay still, be a good boy.” Keith can’t lie, he’s a little bit confused too when he goes to pull out and is met with resistance. Not much, granted, but there’s an audible wet squelch as he pulls the base of his cock free of Lance’s body’s hold. He looks down the line of his body, eyes widening when he sees how swollen his cock looks at the base, red and angry. 

He wants to question it more, but it’s downright painful now to not have himself buried in Lance’s warmth, so he puts his confusion on the backburner and instead watches in rapt fascination as he rolls his hips forward again. The knot at the base of his cock pauses at Lance’s rim, but with a little bit more pressure behind his hips, it pushes inside easily and Lance clamps down on it again in shock. “That’s it, _ fuck _ , open up for me.”

“Fuuuuck.” Lance sounds equally pained and aroused, his hole fluttering weakly around Keith’s cock, stretched wide around the engorged base. When Keith pulls out again, it’s undeniable that his cock has swollen more, a round swollen bump at the base rapidly approaching the size of a tennis ball.

Keith makes up his mind then and there that the next time he pushes into Lance, he’s not going to pull back out, isn’t sure that he’d be able to anyway.

He works his hips forward again, grinding against Lance’s rim and trying to force the swollen base of his cock inside. Lance isn’t being cooperative now though, he’s whining pitifully as Keith tries to force it past his rim. Keith growls, hitching his hips forward, humping against him in short, clumsy thrusts. He’s close, close to his orgasm, but it feels like something more than that.

Lance reaches back to swat at his arm, grunting beneath him. “It’s not gonna fit. It’s too big now.”

“It will.” Keith insists, out of desperation more-so than confidence. “Come on, _ relax _ , let me in.”

“It’s too big.” Lance complains loudly. “Oh my god, you’re gonna dent the hood of your fucking car, slow down, you’re being too rough, I  _ can’t _ -”

“You _ can  _ and you  _ will _ .” Keith snarls, applying more force behind his thrusts, reaching down to grip Lance’s ass and spread it further. Now, Keith watches through heavily lidded eyes, sees the way the knot at the base of his cock rubs against Lance’s fluttering rim. He reaches down, rubbing his fingers through the crease of Lance’s ass and spreading his slick over his rim, using his fingers to dip inside alongside his cock and stretch him further. Lance gasps, but he doesn’t complain, just takes it with a quiet little whine when Keith tries again and this time Lance’s body starts to give under the pressure.

Keith wants to be gentle, he really does, but the moment he starts to feel his knot sinking into Lance’s warmth again after worrying he might not manage it again… his mind goes blissfully blank, like he’s ten shots in on a drunken bender. His vision swims, his body collapsing forward as he drives his hips forward in one cruel thrust and pushes his knot inside of Lance just like that.

“Keith, oh my god, fuck, it’s too much. Mm, o-oh, I can’t-” Lance is shouting now, loud and pissed by the sound of it, but Keith feels like his head is underwater. He only barely registers it when Lance curses at him and digs his nails painfully into Keith’s arm, but he certainly feels it a moment later when Lance shifts and then stills, his body tightening down around Keith’s massive cock like a vise. 

Lance came. Again.

Keith knows that despite his dulled, stupid brain working at such a slow speed. He knows it because he can feel it, feel the added wetness around his cock, feel the way Lance’s body seems to work his cock and coax him into his own orgasm. Keith starts purring without realizing he’s doing it, feeling the first telltale flames of pleasure lick at his core.

Keith’s orgasm hits him like an oncoming train, the force of it knocking the breath from his lungs in one shocked gasp. He feels brainless with it, a pleasant static-like fuzz taking over his mind as his body takes over the reigns for a bit. It’s nothing but pure, over-saturated pleasure. He can’t think around it, all he registers is the tight squeeze of Lance’s body around him, all but milking the fleshy knot resting just inside his rim. 

“Holy shit, that was intense.” Lance laughs, and Keith winces in sensitivity at the way his body inadvertently tightens around his cock, another spurt of cum shooting from his cock. It’s too much, it’s way too much, he’s never experienced anything like it… and at the same time it’s everything he’s been waiting on, exactly what his body’s been asking for all this time. He already wants to do it again, wants to find a way to keep his cock buried in Lance’s ass at all times. “Are you okay? Keith?”

“Hhh. Mhnn.” Keith offers the closest thing to words he’s capable of when he feels like his entire world is reduced to a blinding, smothering sensation of pleasure. He’s still coming, somehow, his cock pulsing jet after jet of hot, sticky cum deep into Lance’s ass. 

“Are you still...?” Lance sounds concerned, squirming around to no avail, trying to dislodge himself from Keith’s knot. All he really manages to do is pull against it, sending Keith into another whimpering fit of oversensitivity. “Seriously? How long is this gonna last, I don’t want someone to walk in on us right n-”

Lance continues to ramble on after that, chatty in his post-orgasm state, ready to discuss everything that just changed between them. Keith is a few laps behind him, still grinning stupidly, lost in the feeling of his cock pumping his load into Lance one shot at a time. It doesn’t seem to be fading yet, not in the slightest, but he doesn’t have the heart or the words to tell Lance. Instead he falls silent, listens distantly to the sound of Lance complaining, and closes his eyes where his head rests on Lance’s back.

As much as he feels like he could fall asleep, he doesn’t. He just drifts in and out of consciousness, lingering somewhere between the two, dancing on the edge while Lance keeps him awake with his incessant chattering. It’s a welcome distraction from the sea of pleasure Keith is floating in though, lost to the pure sensation, like he’s one big live nerve ending.

Eventually, after what could have been ten minutes or ten hours, Keith starts to come back to his head enough to register that Lance stopped speaking at some point.

He lifts his head slowly, opening his eyes fully and actually registering what’s in front of him. Lance’s body, covered in shallow scratches and purpling bruises, his hair such a tangled mess that it would be laughable at any other time. Keith picks himself up slowly, gasping when he feels his cock tug against Lance’s rim, the root of his cock still too swollen to pull free even now that his orgasm seems to have waned. 

Lance whimpers as his knot tugs at his poor, oversensitive rim. Keith immediately regrets it, concern swamping him all at once. He gasps, shocked with himself. His hands come to Lance’s back, gentle as his fingers slide down his spine, feeling each notch.

“Lance? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’re not hurt?” Keith presses, lowering his head and resting his forehead between Lance’s shoulder blades. He inhales deeply, kissing a notch in his spine. “There’s bruises all over you, I can’t believe I did this to you. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Well, I might be better when your cock deflates enough to pull it out of my ass, but it’s more uncomfortable than painful.” The sheer sarcasm in Lance’s bitter tone is enough to start to relax Keith. He chuckles uncertainly, kissing Lance’s skin again. “Any idea what the fuck just happened?”

“No.” Keith says, honestly. He’s starting to wonder again if there’s something seriously wrong with him, if there’s a reason his parents abandoned him from a young age and never looked back. He’s never felt more “different” in his entire life.

“Fuck.” Lance sighs, relaxing again, apparently not that invested in getting an answer to what the fuck just happened here. “I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow.”

“I’ll make you breakfast.” Keith offers without a second of hesitation, eager to make it up to him.

“Better draw me a bath too.”

“God, you need one, you’re fucking drenched. Inside and out.” Keith comments, realizing too late that he’s offended Lance when a pair of dark eyes glare back at him. He grins sheepishly. 

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” Lance snaps at him. He doesn’t seem genuinely angry though, even though god knows he has every reason to be after what just happened here. Beneath that fake glare are those same kind, earnest eyes Keith fell for in the first place. He thinks he might even see Lance’s lips twitching at the corners with the effort its taking to keep from smiling. 

It’s exactly the reassurance he needs.

Now more than ever, Lance deserves to know as much of the truth as Keith can offer.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” Keith confesses, nervously averting his eyes at the last moment as his nerves get the better of him. It’s not exactly the right words, it doesn’t tell the whole truth, but for now it’s the most he can manage. 

“Oh, I might have an idea.” Lance responds slyly, catching Keith completely off-guard. Keith looks at him in confusion, eyebrows hiked up toward his hairline, and Lance giggles quietly in response. It’s the most beautiful sight, Keith finds himself fighting to swallow down an answering purr. 

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t as subtle as you might think, Keith.” Lance offers, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve known about your feelings for me for a while. Since before all of this started.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I don’t know, at first I was waiting on you to make a move because I wasn’t sure, but then it sort-of became a game… seeing how long it’d take you to finally confess.” Lance looks bashful about this topic, and that’s the only reason Keith knows that he’s not telling the whole truth either. That for some reason, Lance was just as nervous about confessing to him. They were just a pair of cowards, it would seem, both in the same boat without ever realizing it. “Needless to say, the wait was longer than I thought it’d be, but totally worth it.”

“Dickhead.” 

“Ooh, how I love your terms of endearment.” Lance winks at him. “So, as much as I love this, the mosquitos have been biting my ass for twenty minutes and I’m pretty sure I witnessed a voyeuristic raccoon while you were fucking me within an inch of my life. Any chance we can make it back to your place before we’re overcome with the need to fuck each other’s brains out again?”

“We can try.” Keith laughs, ducking down to kiss the back of his neck. “We can certainly try.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! Hopefully you enjoyed it, I certainly enjoyed writing it. The concept of Galra puberty/first-time Galra heats is always amusing, but ESPECIALLY when Keith has no sweet fucking clue what's going on and is totally oblivious to his heritage. Idk, it just hits different. 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on any of my below social medias, thanks!
> 
> @melancholymango - tumblr, main twitter  
> @redgaysonly - nsfw fandom twitter, 18+ followers only


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